


A Sin to Kill the Sickness

by G_Howland (Howland)



Category: League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Sex Pollen, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howland/pseuds/G_Howland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go ass over tea kettle on a mission and Tom is affected by a mad scientist's chemical concoctions.  Much as Skinner might like to play the bastard, he's determined to do right by his new lover, much to the surprise of the crew.  Well, most of the crew anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sin to Kill the Sickness

**Author's Note:**

> This, like 'My Freaky American Darling,' is a cut scene from a larger, otherwise abandoned fic i started years ago and lost interest in. I still like the sex scenes I wrote for these two so I'm cutting and editing them to be enjoyed as one shots.
> 
> As always I'm writing movie verse characters here as the comic verse characters are a bit too dark for my own meager writing abilities to handle.

Tom was in trouble.

That, in and of itself, was not news; Tom was usually in one kind of trouble or another. As both the youngest and least experienced member of the League, such a thing was rather inevitable. It was just that today, after this particular mission, Tom had ended up in _Trouble_ , with italics and a capital T.

In all fairness, no one in the league had been prepared for the arsenal of chemical weapons their target had been boasting when they’d tracked him down. Doctor Haverford had been wreaking havoc all across northern Ireland with his psychotropic drugs and mind-altering substances, but the potency of these chemicals had been somewhat down played by Scotland Yard.

Now Skinner was trying to slow him down but Tom was having none if it. He was furious and hot as hell and fuck the invisible bastard if he didn’t understand it, he’d damn well go along with it.

How was he to know it was the poison in his blood pushing him like this; driving him to buck and groan and hiss and howl. Skinner grunted and pushed him back against the bulkhead which only made Tom hotter, whining and growling, grabbing at Skinner’s clothes and unable to understand why he tried to restrain him, why he looked over his shoulder distractedly and waved the rest of the League away.

To their credit, not one member of the league looked scandalized. Indeed, they looked only concerned, Mina and Jekyll a shade grimmer than Nemo as they truly understood what was going on. Skinner glared at them, doing his best to translate through his furrowed brow the promise of pain if they let one hint of this circulate to the rest of the crew. Mina nodded sharply and took Nemo’s arm, exchanging a look with Jekyll that spoke volumes.

“You will be left alone.” She said loudly.

Skinner returned the nod as best he could while trying to restrain a raging Tom, and then they were gone, the door shutting decisively behind them.

“Skinerrr...” Tom moaned reaching up to pull at the collar of his own shirt, clawing at the buttons in frustration. His pupils were so dilated his irises seemed nearly black, and the whites were bloodshot.

“Hey Tommy Boy, hey. S’alright, you’re alright.” He meant for his words to sooth and smooth the edge of hunger but Tom just howled all the louder.

He screamed Skinner’s name and it echoed down the corridor. The lights seemed to dim in reply and Skinner shook his head.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was aching for Tom; that sinfully pretty face with a shard of something harder and more violent cutting through, those blue eyes turned dark with lust, his writhing; fuck.

Still, it was with grimness that he moved to grip Tom’s wrists tightly and hold him hard to the wall. “Okay,” he growled. “s’okay Tommy boy. Whatever you need.”

 

\---

 

Mina drew her hand away from the light controls carefully, hoping she’d improved the atmosphere some what for the sake of their Mister Sawyer.

Jekyll was quickly explaining the effects of the poison to Nemo, who was growing increasingly pale.

“But why Mr. Skinner?” He interrupted, plucking at his beard in a worried way.

Mina sighed, feeling conflicted about her and Mr. Skinner’s positions at the moment. “I suppose he was nearest, the easiest to touch.”

But Jekyll shook his head adamantly, looking nervous and uncomfortable. “No, that’s not it. Had Tom wanted any one of us he would have gone after-”

Mina bristled. “Doctor! You can’t possibly blame Mr. Sawyer for his current position.”

“Of course not.” Jekyll looked affronted, but it faded back to nervousness as he wrung his hands and looked for the right way to break the news to his companions. “You see, while I could not call Tom a homosexual-”

“He is attracted to men under the right circumstances?” Nemo was sounding increasingly more collected, his beard stroking becoming a contemplative move rather than a nervous one.

“Yes, yes. There is... research which suggests that such a thing is not nearly so, so unnatural as some would argue. In fact-”

“I care little for your research at the moment Doctor.” Mina’s words were cold and her gaze was flinty. “What I would like to understand is how you of all people have been privileged with such a personal bit of information as this?”

Jekyll flinched. “Well, they do spend rather a lot of time together.”

“As do Nemo and I, Doctor. I would hope you draw no such inferences from our relationship?”

“No!” He looked startled, “No, I would never presume- I mean, no. Not at all. It is rather that Hyde, Edward, well, he has a very acute sense of smell. He could- he can- tell when they have been... intimate. From scent.”

Were she not already dead and bloodless, Mina was not sure if she could have withheld the blush that wanted to stain her cheeks. There was a long moment of silence before Nemo sighed.

“Indeed, you are sure of this Doctor?”

“Yes, quite sure.” With the knowledge out in the open Jekyll seemed to sag in relief, his hands falling to his sides.

Mina followed Nemo’s suit and sighed, cursing herself for her blindness. “Well,” She began at length, her voice quiet. “Well, at least we needn’t worry for their virtue or their, delicate sensibilities.”

Jekyll would have chuckled if it had been funny. As it was he smiled weakly.

“I will remain outside the door, keep bystanders at bay and... be present should something go awry.”

“You do that Doctor.” Mina shook herself mentally and took off briskly in the direction of her quarters, already thinking of the tests she could run on the poison to get her mind off the subject of the sweet Mr. Sawyer and the gentleman thief.

Watching her go, Jekyll frowned for an added matter of concern. “I hope she is not offended. It is hardly something I can-”

“I would not worry on that, Doctor.” Nemo’s voice was deep and collected, sounding as if nothing had ever disturbed his near perpetual state of calm. “I believe she only scolds herself for her lack of observation.”

Jekyll frowned. “It’s not as if they were obvious about it...”

“Yes, but you must remember Doctor, you are not the only creature with superior senses aboard this vessel.”

He clapped Jekyll’s shoulder companionably. “I believe that I too shall retire to my quarters, I am in need of some rest before we plan our next move.”

“Yes,” Jekyll said absently. “Yes, of course.”

“Goodnight Doctor, and good luck with your patients.”

At his words Jekyll turned his head to look Nemo more squarely, and smiled wanly. “Yes, of course. Goodnight captain.”

From the way Nemo turned and walked down the hall undisturbed, Jekyll knew he hadn’t heard the sounds which emanated from the closed corridor which resonated clearly enough for his and Edward’s ears.

 _He is high on that drug now Henry, let us in there and enjoy the party. Doesn’t it sound like fun?_

A particularly loud moan leaked around the door and Jekyll shook his head to clear it, the flush forming on his face made him glad for Mina’s assurance that she would see to it that no one would disturb this part of the ship for the next few hours. If Edward kept it up, he would likely need the solitude.

 

\---

 

Skinner had two spit-slicked fingers buried in Tom, stretching him as quickly as safely possible. Tom was getting him hotter by the instant with his noises and his blatant, sloppy attempts at seduction. It should have been stupid, but it was turning him on like he couldn’t believe. Tom’s eyes were at half mast, his moth open and panting, colour high on his cheeks, moisture along his lashes, damn, he was practically vibrating with need. Whenever Skinner brushed his prostrate the boy would cry out, unrestrained, throwing his head back and forth in passion. Skinner couldn’t stand it.

It was so open and innocent, the sort of honest pleasure he’d never seen in a bed partner before. He tried to soothe him with deep possessive kisses but it only fueled this fire in Tom which sent him to pieces. He was worried about how little lubrication there was between them but Tom clearly couldn’t care less. Every few seconds he’d reach for Skinner, trying eliminate all space between them, trying to wrap his legs around Skinner’s waist and get him to push inside. Each time Skinner would grab his wrist and push it over his head, trying to hold him down, but he wasn’t much bigger than Tom and it was difficult to multi-task when he was so turned on. Inevitably a hand would worm it’s way from his grip and Tom would try again, his sweaty curls stuck to his face in a most appealing way, his eyes absent of all rational thought, driven only by lust.

Giving up on waiting any longer Skinner pulled his fingers free, a move which Tom protested with loud wordless cries, and spit liberally in his palm. Slicking himself up as best he could, he urged Tom to go down and get on his hands and knees. He’d laid down his coat to provide a bit of insulation between them and the cold metal deck, and it bunched up as Tom moved quickly to oblige.

Skinner pushed Tom’s legs a bit and the American spread them eagerly, dropping his head to rest it between his hands on the floor with a moan. The coat smelled like skinner: like grease paint and leather and sweat and holy shit.

“Easy Tommy boy, easy. Just SHITE-”

Tom cut him short as Skinner started to enter him, thrusting backwards fast and hard, taking Skinner deep in one rough push.

Skinner clamped his hands hard enough around Tom’s hips to make the boy slow the fuck down, not worrying about the bruises they’d find there later.

Whether it was the drug numbing any discomfort or the fact that Tom was just too far gone to care about the pain, Tom seemed to slow down not a single iota. It was reaching the point where Skinner was thinking it might be best just to drive him hard to completion, give into what Tom was begging for. Yet the small nagging part of his brain which wanted him to be a good man was uneasy with the idea.

“Jesus Tom, slow it down! I know you’re listening, so do what I say, christ almighty...” Maybe it was the strength behind his hold or maybe it was just the fact that Tom finally had Skinner where he wanted him, buried deep inside, but either way he obeyed. He stilled completely except for inadvertent trembling and shut his eyes tight, moaning quietly without any apparent control over the sounds.

Skinner took a moment to catch his breath, cautiously relaxing a hand from its death grip and going to rub it soothingly up and down the man’s back.

“Easy Sawyer, easy...” It wasn’t unlike calming a frightened animal, petting it gently, reassuring it that he was no enemy, that things would work out in the end.

Tom started sob under his breath, finding it difficult to speak for the onslaught of sensation. It was like waves of heat were washing through him, making him wild with need. He wanted release, he wanted to feel Skinner as deep and as hard as possible driving him towards that climax. He needed it; it was starting to hurt.

“Please!” He cried out, his throat sore and his body burning. “Please, it hurts to wait, please please please...”

His words gave Skinner pause, a look of shock crossing his painted face followed by one of pain. He leaned over Tom’s back, reaching down to place a hand over one of the ones Tom had braced on the floor. The grease paint left streaks along Tom’s skin where he moved in to lick the flushed skin of his neck. He squeezed Tom’s hand once and then rapidly drew back and thrust back in. If it was what Tom needed it was what Tom would get.

The American howled in relief, pleasure exploding bright enough to blot out the pain, his world dissolving to Skinner around him, over him, in him, Skinner Skinner Skinner...

His screams echoed down the empty hall.

 

\---

 

Jekyll winced again at the sounds of pleasure/pain and let his head fall back and thump against the bulkhead.

Despite Edward’s nagging, and despite how appealing it sounded Henry refused to open the door. Not only was it morally reprehensible to think about taking advantage of Tom in this state, but it was nearly as great a crime to interrupt Skinner in a situation such as this. The man was exceptionally private, manifested in sneakiness and manipulation, and it would be the cruelest sort of affront to spy on him now. As much as Skinner tried to hide it, there was a true decency to him that he kept carefully locked away. Jekyll wouldn’t have believed it himself had he not gotten a good look at Tom just a day, no, just hours after Skinner had first taken him. Though Tom had done his best to hide it, the limp in his gait had been noticeable to the doctor. The only thing that had kept him from asking after his health was the overpowering smell of sex that bombarded him.

He’d battled with himself for a moment, both his doctor’s instincts and his general distrust of the invisible man screaming at him to counsel Tom and let Edward rip Skinner a new one, but There’d been something off. Hyde’d chuckled darkly at the back of his head.

 _You’re wrong Henry._ he’d whispered. _This one is a mate._

If the tone of Skinner's voice he was catching strains of now was any indication, Hyde’d been right. No, Tom wasn’t just another fuck, he was something more. At the risk of sounding trite, Henry thought that Skinner might in fact be falling for the boy.

And as much as Hyde whined about such prime flesh leaving the market, Henry knew Edward approved. The animal in him had always had a strong concept of baser instincts such as ‘mate,’ and as much as he disliked the invisible man, he would hardly interfere with such an institution without good reason.

 _I have good reason Henry, I need a good fuck, as do you. Come on, open the door._

“No.” Jekyll said aloud with some finality, a small, bitter smile on his lips. As right as Edward may have been concerning the state of his love life, this thing between Skinner and Tom was something he’d be doing his best to nurture not destroy. As their doctor he was in a unique position to help both of them, and he planned to utilize it to his full extent.

 _Just a peek than Henry, just a glimpse of that glorious pale young body being split in two on-  
_  
“No!” He was blushing now, but started to smile with voyeuristic humor. “Down boy.” He murmured quietly, receiving only a dark, hungry growl in return.

 

\---

 

There had been little room for romance in their coupling. It had been frantic and violent and messy. While Skinner had done his best to handle Tom gently, the boy had only cried out and begged for more. There’d been tears in his eyes and his hands had fisted the material of his jacket and Skinner had just done whatever he’d needed to to make that image go away, to make Tom okay again.

Now Skinner pulled on the pants he’d so quickly discarded earlier and moved slowly to button them up, his eyes glued to the sleeping form of Sawyer wrapped best as he could in his big coat, a frown cleaving his brow, little whimpers of pain escaping him every so often. He’d drawn his legs up to his chest, the poison still wreaking havoc on his system, but abated enough to let him sleep off what was left of it.

Tugging his shirt over his head quickly in an effort to make himself appear decent Skinner expected the knock a the door before heard it. On the other side he found Dr. Jekyll looking sober and concerned, as ashen as always.

“Do you require-”

“I’d like to get his trousers back on him to save him some embarrassment whilst we get ‘im to his quarters, or mine, or whatever. I believe its the sort of thing I’d be needing your assistance with doc.”

Jekyll rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “No, he’s likely over-sensitized from the toxin, I wouldn’t want to cause him undo discomfort.” Maneuvering around Skinner who stood defensively in the door way, Jekyll caught sight of the dejected looking figure of Sawyer curled up on the floor and winced in sympathy.

“Bloody hell doc, I’ll not be having him-”

“No one will intercept us as we walk. I’ll make sure of that.” A bit of Edward was showing through in his eyes as he held Skinner’s gaze. He broke it off to lean down and collect the clothes and shoes still abandoned on the floor, leaving Skinner to stoop over and heft Sawyer up with a grunt. He took a moment to try and steady himself before being forced to drop to a knee and lower Tom back to the floor lest he drop the already hurting man.

“I’ve got him.” There was no judgement in Jekyll’s voice, and Skinner witnessed the calmest transformation from man to beast he’d ever seen. He took the clothes Hyde offered and nodded his thanks with his mouth set in a grim line as the creature gathered Tom into his arms as if he weighed nothing at all. Skinner stood up and rolled his shoulders.

“I’m holding you to that promise. No witnesses” But there was no real vitriol behind his words.

“I know” came the deep growl behind him.

With that he opened the door and stepped aside for Hyde to pass through, leading him down the empty corridors of the Nautilus.


End file.
